


Fireside Drafts

by weaverofdreams45



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death from Old Age, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-10-27 13:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaverofdreams45/pseuds/weaverofdreams45
Summary: This is going to be a collection of drabbles and one-shots as I practice my writing.  It'll be assorted pairings, so look at the chapter titles to see what pairing it is.





	1. Firewhiskey and Flame (Harmony)

Harry Potter was tired. Not that that was new; he’d been tired for the last nineteen years. But in this moment, having yet another fight with Ginny about their different ideas for the future, Harry let his exhaustion overcome him. He’d been living his life as the Boy Who Lived for so long, and he just didn’t want to be the Boy Who Lived anymore. With one last broken look at his girlfriend, he apparated away.

The familiar pull of apparition had never gotten easier to stomach, but Harry found himself able to stand now afterwards without stumbling. Dumpsters lined the side street that he landed in, and he held his breath as he made his way towards the door to the massive apartment building. Ron and Hermione had called it quits recently, and Harry knew that Hermione would be at her flat with Crookshanks as comfort and a floo block on. Ever since the war, she was paranoid about her safety and there was no way that Harry would be able to break through her wards.

By the time Harry made it to the fifth floor, his head had cleared slightly from his fight with Ginny. She was always pushing him. They’d been dating on and off for nearly four years now and she kept asking him when they would get engaged. The problem was that he really couldn’t imagine a future with the red head. Of course, he always imagined having kids, but when he imagined his future, Ginny was not the one standing next to him.

Not to say he didn’t love her. She was fiendfyre. It burned just the right amount when they touched, and the good times were great. The problem though is that fiendfyre is uncontrollable, dangerous, and lethal when not handled properly. Not really something you’d want around children. Ginny was too eager to keep moving; like a shark, she would die if she stopped. Harry, war weary Harry, wanted nothing more than to stop – to settle. And even if Ginny was asking for marriage, it would not be settling. She was gone more than she was home, and so was he. And when they were together, it was hollow. Like something used to be there but now there was just empty space and a memory.

Approaching flat 5D, he raised his knuckles against the white wood and knocked gently. When there was no sound of movement within a minute, Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he prepared to head anywhere else. Grimmauld Place had become a war zone and he didn’t want to fight with Ginny anymore. Just as he was about to turn away, dejected, from her door, he heard footsteps approach.

Hermione was a mess, and he thought she’d never looked more beautiful. Her recently shortened brown curls puffed away from her head like a lion’s mane. Warm cinnamon brown eyes looked at him, and he felt at home…more at home than he’d felt in weeks. He wasn’t quite sure when (probably sometime during the war) Hermione became home for him. She was the one constant in his life, and the only person who had ever seen him as Harry rather than the Boy Who Lived. Without a word, she opened the door and he followed her inside. Her small apartment was colorful and vibrant. Stacks of books covered her kitchen table, overflowing from the built-in bookshelves along the far wall.

A worn floral couch that had long since lost its support made the small sitting area feel large and inviting. Her stone fireplace took up most of the opposite wall, with a mantel covered in photographs. Walking absently up to them, the corners of his lips pulled into a sad smile as he remembered the good old days. His absolute favorite photo would always be the one taken during the summer before their fifth year. They were all living at Grimmauld Place, and Sirius had managed a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione all smiling happily in the warm sun. As the picture moved, Hermione’s hair caught the wind and Ron made a silly face. That was how Harry always wanted them to be…not whatever they were now.

Hermione was behind him suddenly, with a warm cup of tea and an understanding smile. She’d always had that power; to know exactly what he needed. Red skin puffed up around her eyes, and he was suddenly very aware of her anguish that he was interrupting. “I can go ‘Mione.” He choked out, holding back his frustrations and sadness. Salty tears brimmed his emerald eyes, and he pushed his glasses up with the sleeve of his jumper to wipe them away. Hermione must have been bad, because she didn’t even try to chastise him for using the nickname he knew she hated.

“Don’t.” Was all she said, beckoning him to the lumpy old couch. “What was the fight about this time?” Crookshanks joined them then, curling up in Hermione’s lap as she sat on the couch clutching her own tea; lavender and ginseng.

“The same.” Nodding her head in understanding, she blew on the edge of her cup before taking a meager sip. Harry clutched his own mug and mimicked her. “She keeps asking me when I’ll get on with it and propose but I just…I mean I’m probably just mad.”

“Yes. That’s probably it. You’re probably just a nutter. Can’t help it really, what with all the bludgers you took to the head.” Hermione’s joke was half-hearted, but Harry laughed anyway. They were trying, desperately, to get back to how things had been. As hard as things got between Ron and Ginny and everything else life kept throwing at them, they always had each other. Talking with Hermione eased all his burdens, like coming home after a long day.

Nudging him with her foot, Hermione frowned. “Get on with it then. Share the madness.”

Harry adjusted himself, allowing Hermione to place her legs over top of his. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he wracked his brain for how to explain what he was feeling. “Its like…I’ve never been anything but the Boy Who Lived to so many people. And I get that I technically did save the world and all that rot, but I don’t want to be the boy who lived anymore. I just want to be Harry and I’ve never been Harry to Gin. I’ve always been the boy who lived and who saved her. I’m tired of saving people, I’m tired of chasing dark wizards, I’m just so tired…” He paused for a moment, searching for a better way to tell her how he felt. “I’m not making any bloody sense, am I.”

“You make perfect sense to me. The war…I would do it all over again in a heartbeat, but I didn’t do it for fame or glory. You and I, we’re not like the others. Ron…” Her voice broke as she spoke his name, but she cleared her throat and continued. “He loves the attention. Its all he’s ever wanted was to be acknowledged. I think we’re just made of different stuff.”

Harry was quiet, as he considered what she’d said. It was true that Ron had lapped up the attention from being a part of what had become known as the Golden Trio. He’d used the prestige to gain a position as an auror and had been coasting on reputation alone ever since. It had been one of the major factors in his and Hermione’s breakup. She didn’t want the spotlight, in fact, she would rather have never had the attention in the first place.

“Do you ever think about just leaving?” Hermione rolled her eyes at him and took another sip from her tea, but the wizard leaned against her legs and stared at her with a serious expression. “I’m serious ‘Mione. You and I…we could just leave. Live in the muggle world. We’d never have to deal with the Prophet or being called war heroes or exes. It could just be you and me…” Crookshanks, who had been lazing in Hermione’s lap mewled then, and Harry rubbed the top of the half-kneazle’s head. “And Crooks of course.”

Hermione blew air to cool her tea once more, her thinking face on. Of course it had crossed her mind – near daily when her relationship with Ron had started falling apart – but could she really do it. She already lived in muggle London, and with Harry…

“Alright.” Her voice was so quiet at first that Harry was certain he’d misheard her.

“What?” His mouth hung open, and he nearly dropped the mug in his hand. 

“I mean I’d need to arrange to attend university. There is no way I can get on in the muggle world without it. I’ll have to confound a local secondary school to enroll us and give us the proper grades to get in. I’ve always dreamt of going to Cambridge myself.” She continued rattling on about the technicalities and preparations, and Harry just stared at her with a warmth blooming in his chest.

This was what was missing from his relationship with Ginny. If he’d brought it up to her, she would have cackled at him and told him he was being ridiculous, but Hermione…She just started planning the logistics of their lives.

“Really. You’ll…you’ll come with me?” Tears that had been threatening since he arrived began to spill over, and a moment later Hermione was wrapped in his arms. Crookshanks, who had been sleeping, was not fast enough to escape the embrace, and so the ball of orange was wrapped up in Harry’s arms as well.

“You deserve to be where you’re happy Harry. If living in the muggle world will make you happy than I will help. I…I can’t guarantee that we’ll never want to go back, but taking a break to attend University is not the worst idea.” Shooting Harry a stern look, he realized that he was still holding her, and Crookshanks was beginning to dig his front claws into Harry’s arms. Releasing them both, the orange cat hissed at him before escaping out of sight.

“You’ll have to find something to occupy your time. I know that university is probably not something you’d think about, but there are plenty of jobs you could get…” She was cut off then as warm lips met hers. Hermione was too stunned to respond, and instead shot back.

Standing up as quickly as he could, the cup of tea he had been holding fell to the floor, shattering loudly against the wood. Harry began to turn a bright shade of red. “I’m sorry…I don’t know why I did that. I just…you were…I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Hermione recovered slowly, raising her hand to her lips. It was the first time they had ever done that. Not that she hadn’t thought about it before. They were just as warm as she’d thought they would be, and just as soon as they were gone, she found herself mourning their loss.

“No…wait.” She called out after him, and she was grateful in that moment that she had turned off her floo. Following after him in her dressing gown, she caught him just as he was about to walk out her front door. “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry. I know you and Ron just broke up and I’m not even technically broken up with Ginny yet and…” Before he could continue, she threw herself at him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, he held her weight. Their lips crashed together as if she was poisoned and the antidote coated his lips. There was more to this kiss than just their mutual sadness. This was filling an ache that had been in Hermione’s chest so long she had learned to ignore it.

Harry wrapped his fingers tightly around her back, pinning her closer to him. She tasted like firewhiskey felt, and he was drunk on her. Hermione felt…right. She was fire, but not the wild, untameable Ginny kind. This fire was different. This fire was soft and warm, growing as they discovered each other. Like the bluebell flame in a jar, it was beautiful and lasting.

This was what love was meant to feel like. This was home, wrapped around Hermione Granger and tasting her firewhiskey flame.z


	2. Closer Than You Think (Theomione)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione Granger is overjoyed when Ron Weasley tells her that he's going to propose to his longtime girlfriend, but now she has to find a date to her ex-boyfriend's engagement party. Enter in a co-worker willing to do her a favor, and maybe what Hermione has been looking for was closer than she thought all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit smutty at the end, and I am not very good at smut, so be as critical as you like in your reviews. I hope you enjoy this!

Hermione Granger awoke rather fatigued from her night of arithmantic calculations. The potion that she had been working on for months was finally ready, and she was rather anxious to determine if there would be a positive result or not. According to all the arithmancy she had done (and she had done quite a lot), the potion would work. Almost like a time turner, but much more controlled. It was attuned to her magical signature and the bright gold liquid seemed to pulse with the energy held within it. It reminded her a bit of felix felicis, if a bit thicker, and she prayed that it would bode well. She needed all the luck she could get.

The small flat she rented out in muggle London was flooded with light as she realized that she must have fallen asleep at her desk again. Around her ankles, a blur of slightly knotted orange fur yowled and drew figure eights. “Good morning to you too Crooks.” Hermione greeted, her voice cracking as she yawned. Too many mornings had been spent like this during her research, but they would all be worth it if the blasted thing worked. Scooting back her chair with a high-pitched scrape, Hermione stood and stretched. Her long chestnut brown curls were fighting against her wand, which held them in place in a messy bun. Drawing the vine wood from her hair, it tumbled down wildly around her face.

The soft cotton of her pyjama shirt rode up as she stretched again, earning a satisfying crack from a few places along her spine. Returning to her normal standing position, she scooped up a displeased looking Crookshanks and made her way to the kitchen. The vinewood wand which had been holding her hair up was now placed in a makeshift pocket that Hermione had sewn on her leggings. It was a bit awkward and the stitching left something to be desired, but she would be prepared in the event she needed it. 

Her kitchen was similar to the rest of her apartment, small and somewhat dingy looking. It wasn’t often that she took meals in home anyway, considering she was decidedly a poor cook. A lazy flick of her hand opened the bag of bread sitting on her counter and popped them in to the toaster. Grabbing a can of cat food from one of the mint green cupboards, she searched through the drawer to the right of the sink before pulling out a can-opener. It was slightly rusted, but still perfectly functional; all she had to do was goad it a little bit and then it would work like a charm.

Behind her, the sound of her fireplace lighting alerted her to someone’s presence. A few years prior, when she was still fresh from the war, Hermione would’ve had her wand drawn and a stunning curse on her lips before her visitor could even set a toe out of the floo. But this was not war anymore, in fact, there had been peace for years. That did not stop her however, from placing her hand over the handle just in case.

“’Mione?” A wondering voice called out, carrying itself well inside the small space. Hermione’s stiff shoulders relaxed a bit as Ronald Weasley stepped into view. He had grown since the end of the war, and she always found herself a bit taken aback by how age had granted him this rugged handsomeness that he didn’t seem quite aware of. Of course, they had long since put to rest the idea of a romantic relationship, but she couldn’t deny that he was one handsome wizard.

Noticing her struggle with the can-opener, Ron chuckled and cast her an amused glance. “Honestly woman, every time I’m over here its like you need reminding you’re a witch.” Digging in his pocket for his own wand, he brandished it and muttered a quick spell. Watching with annoyance, Hermione muttered under her breath as Ron’s spell opened the can and spelled the food into Crookshanks’ dish.

“I do not forget that I am a witch Ronald. I just prefer some things done the muggle way.” It wasn’t an argument, not really. They had long since realized that on this topic, they would never agree. Ron never saw the benefit in doing anything the muggle way – typical wizard. “Anyway, what brings you by? Gin’s not gone into labor yet right?” Panic filled her voice as she began to mentally go over the plan she had made for when her best friends’ baby arrived. Crookshanks (seemingly sensing her anxiety) took a moment’s break from his breakfast to rub his fur against her legs.

“Merlin no. I imagine there won’t be a witch or wizard alive who isn’t made aware the moment Ginny’s water breaks. She’s been screaming like a banshee with all these false alarms. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry goes deaf before he can even hear his baby cry for the first time.” Hermione glowered at him but chose not to comment. He wasn’t necessarily wrong from what she had witnessed when she’d had a false contraction at the Burrow the other day.

“So why are you here Ron? And don’t give me that you wanted to see me shite. It hasn’t worked any of the times you’ve tried to sell it to me.” Ron grabbed at one of the pieces of toast that had just popped from her toaster. Smacking at his hand with lightning speed, the boy gave her a wounded look before helping himself to a seat at her table.

“I liked you better before you got this fancy job as an Unspeakable. You’re mean now.” She could tell that he wasn’t serious, and some of the annoyance she felt towards him began to drain from her shoulders. It wasn’t like he knew she’d had a bad night…she could never stay mad at him for long anyway. Yielding, she grabbed the toast and put it onto a pale blue plate that was chipped on the side. Taking stock in the fridge, she was pleased to see she still had some marmalade left over from Luna’s last batch. Hermione may have secretly thought the girl was a bit barmy, but she made a cracking good spread.

Once she had done a thorough job of covering her pieces of toast with the delicious blueberry substance, she offered a half of one to Ron as a piece offering. Never one to deny food of any sort, he happily snatched it from her grasp and swallowed it in only two large bites.

“Alright now that I’ve been a good host and offered you some of my delicious breakfast, why are you here?” Hermione was wise enough to know that Ron only visited her when he wanted something, and it was often nasty business.

“I’m going to ask Susan to marry me.” The words were simple enough, but coming out of the mouth of Ronald Weasley, she was tempted to do a doubletake. Ron had never been one for commitment, not having a real long-term relationship since his disaster with Lavender Brown their sixth year. The boy – well he really had become a man hadn’t he? When did that happen?

“I’m…that’s amazing!” Her happiness for her friend was genuine, and she enveloped his large frame with a warm hug. She felt his shoulders relax, and for the first time she realized that he had been worried about her reaction. It was a valid concern. Ever since their failed attempt at a romance after the Battle of Hogwarts, relationships had been a bit of an awkward subject between them. Hermione had not cared for the string of girlfriends he’d had before Susan, but then Susan had come along and she was just too perfect for Ron for her to not love her. They’d been dating for nearly two years, and Hermione was truly happy that Ron had found love, if not a bit bitter that she had not been so lucky.

“How are you going to do it?” She asked, pushing all of her bitterness away and focusing wholly on how happy she was for him and Susan.

Ron smiled at her brightly before delving into his big plan. It was quite developed for him, involving actual planning as well. He even took into consideration that she had no living family and chose something private. Dinner at the place in muggle London where they’d had their first date and a walk around the park where they had reconnected after school. It was perfect, and Hermione felt tears well in her eyes in pride. Ron really had grown up.

“Well that sounds brilliant. She’ll definitely say yes.” Regardless of her assurances, Ron seemed to be nervous, and Hermione found it adorable that he was so in love with the witch.

“That’s the hope. I actually have to go, opening the shop today. You should pop round when you have time. George has a brilliant new invention premiering next week so it’ll probably get a bit mad.” Hermione nodded her head and made a promise to visit at some point and ushered the man out of her flat. Before closing the door, Ron caught her hand. “You deserve to be happy ‘Mione. No pressure, and I know you’re an independent witch and all that, but I hope you find a bloke to make you happy. Who knows, maybe Mr. Right is closer than you think.” Hermione frowned at his words, but knew he meant well. His visit had been nice, but she had to get ready for work now.

Once Ron was gone, she finished the rest of her meager breakfast and chugged the remainder of her tea before moving quickly to her room. Harry (and by Harry she entirely meant Ginny with Harry’s money) had gifted her a new wardrobe as a congratulations for her getting her new job. Ginny may be a jock and a professional athlete, but she also loved getting to dress up Hermione.

She examined the open doors of her armoire and frowned as she thought. Hermione often prioritized…well staying alive…for much of her youth, and so she found that she rather enjoyed any excuse to dress up now that she could. Her job as an Unspeakable kept her busy, and she had dark purple outer robes to wear over her clothes. Pulling out a pretty white chiffon blouse and a black pencil skirt, she changed quickly before focusing on her hair. In her research lab, it was dangerous for her curls to reign free, and so she had spent hours figuring out a charm to braid her hair into neat plaits. Once her mane was contained, she cast a few quick glamours to hide the darkness under her eyes.

Crookshanks mewed in approval as she did one last look over in the mirror and nuzzled against her legs to say goodbye. She had gotten permission from Kingsley to floo straight to the department of mysteries from her flat – one of only two times she had ever used her Order of Merlin to get what she wanted. Stepping out of the fireplace in the Department of Mysteries always sent a chill through her. It was dark and well…mysterious. Of course, the office area was slightly brighter and less menacing than the corridor of shifting doors.

“Running late this morning Granger?” A familiar voice spoke, and Hermione cast a glare where she knew he’d be lounging. Theodore Nott was a proper git, but she would be lying if she said that she would’ve survived past her first week without him. He challenged her and called her out when she was doing too much, but he didn’t have to be such a prick about it.

“Yes well, some of us actually spend time working. I’m sure the concept has never been familiar to you, but I am rather proud of the work I do.” She withheld a childish impulse to stick her tongue out at him and instead plopped herself down at her desk. As chaotic as it looked, it was incredibly organized to her.

“What did your late night provide us then, o majesty of work ethic?” Theo teased, picking up a rememberall form his desk and playing with it. Hermione had gotten it for him as a joke gift at Christmas after he forgot to submit their research reports, but he insisted on keeping it on his desk. Putting his feet up on his desk, he began tossing the ball back and forth between his hands.

Ignoring him, she unpacked her bag of the files she had finished going through and flicked her wand. They began to fly through the air towards the walls where they placed themselves in whatever assorted folders they belonged in. Looking more seriously at Theo, she sighed. “I think I’ve figured out the time potion.”

The Slytherin nearly dropped the glass sphere in his hand as he launched forward from his casual lazing about. All joking was gone from his face as he gaped at Hermione. They had been working on a replacement for the time turners for over a year now, and as handy as Theo was at time magic, they had never gotten it to work.

“You can’t just drop that on a bloke and not elaborate. What have you figured out?” His eyes were wide and hungry, and Hermione was reminded that she actually liked Theodore very much when he was focused and curious like this. Blushing slightly as she thought about how handsome he looked that day, she pushed that thought far to the back of her mind and continued.

“I realized that the critical ingredient to a successful time turner was the sand contained in the hourglass. That is what made it magically powerful enough to go through time. By my arithmantic calculations – which I did because you are pants at it – we should be able to pass back in time if we put the sand from the time turners in as we brew.” Feeling rather accomplished, Hermione pulled a mug from her desk and filled it with water then cast a heating charm. Theo seemed to be thinking over the information she had given him and pulled his crooked lips into a crooked smile, and once again Hermione couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked.

“Alright fine…lets say that theory works – and it sounds like it will – how do we return? Time magic is only half done if it can’t bring us back.”

“Well that’s where your potions expertise come in. How do you reverse engineer any potion?” Theo preened from her admittance of his skill in potion making, and Hermione rolled her eyes, opening the drawer of her desk where she kept assorted snacks and necessities. Frowning, she realized she was out of her favorite tea, and closed the drawer with a loud sigh.

Theo, who was watching her with an amused smirk, opened one of his drawers and tossed a new box of the lavender and jasmine green tea to the confused curly-haired witch. “What? I figured you’d run out eventually and be too busy revolutionizing wizardry to remember to pop round a shop for more.” It was incredibly thoughtful, Hermione realized, that Theo had not only noticed what tea she drank, but had also purchased extra so she wouldn’t go without. She couldn’t fight the blush that marred her cheeks now, and hastily muttered her thanks before busying herself with her paperwork.

* * *

Ron Weasley and Susan Bones got engaged on their second anniversary, and Hermione was thrilled when he owled her the news. She had barely seen Harry or Ron due to a combination of her research schedule getting more hectic, Harry becoming a father, and Ron and George’s new product causing the shop to become even more popular.

The owls they sent weekly to update their lives were some of the only contact they had, so Hermione cherished her letters. Of course, since the birth of James Potter II and the engagement news, the Daily Prophet had renewed its interest in the three teenagers who saved the Wizarding World. Now Hermione’s perpetual singleness seemed to be a spark of intrigue, and articles ran near daily connecting her with one of her friends, international Quidditch stars, or eligible members of the Wizengamot.

Theo, who was being slightly less of a bastard now that he actually had work to do reverse engineering the time potion Hermione had designed, would ask her who she was dating today whenever she arrived with her copy of the Daily Prophet. 

If she wasn’t so morbidly curious what was being said about her, she would’ve cancelled the gossip rag years ago. Rita Skeeter, who had miraculously managed to regain her position as head reporter for the Prophet, had returned with a gusto to try and ruin Hermione’s reputation.

“What eligible wizard are you dating today?” Theo inquired, barely concealing his mirth. If there was one thing she learned about the Slytherin over their time working together, it was that he only showed emotion when he wanted to. Half the time, he was stoic and unreadable and the other half, he was amusing himself at her expense.

“Wizards actually.” Hermione corrected, tucking a stray curl she had missed in her braids behind her ear. “It seems that I am currently juggling between Oliver Wood and Charlie Weasley – which is hilarious considering they are dating each other.” Holding up the newspaper, she pointed to a picture of her hugging each wizard as they met for lunch in Diagon Alley. She would’ve avoided being seen entirely, but Charlie was only home for a few days, and she hadn’t seen him in so long.

“You know, you could avoid all this if you just settled down. Surely there is some wizard somewhere who lives up to the standards of the Gryffindor Princess.” The mirth that filled his eyes when he had first asked was still there, but there was something more underneath. As per usual for her Slytherin coworker however, she couldn’t read him beyond the surface.

Hermione groaned and realized that as much as she hated it, he was right. The Daily Prophet would never leave her alone, but they would become less interested if she started dating someone. Suddenly, a paper plane flew in from the direction of the lift, landing itself neatly in Hermione’s incoming mail pile. Opening it, she was glad to see Harry’s scratchy handwriting. He had only been back at work for a week or so, but fatherhood seemed to be suiting him well.

_Hermione,_

_Don’t forget that Ron and Susan’s engagement party is Saturday night. I know you get caught up in the very important work you are undoubtedly doing down there in the DoM, but you know they’d never forgive you if you missed it. Gin wants to see you too, and James misses his godmother._

_Harry_

_P.S. Its not a request, and I will use my authority to drag you out if needed._

“Bloody hell.” Hermione cursed, throwing down the parchment on her desk. She had completely forgotten that the Weasleys were throwing an engagement party for Ron that weekend. She had wondered why the prophet was even more obsessed about her romances than usual. Placing her head against her desk, she groaned in despair.

“Not that your behavior isn’t thoroughly entertaining, but what’s got your wand in a knot?” Theo teased, poking at Hermione’s arm with his quill. The feather tickled against her skin, and she laughed despite her irritation.

“I forgot that Ron’s having an engagement party this weekend and if I don’t show up with a date then the Prophet is going to be running stories about me being a spinster for the next year. I wish the whole world didn’t think it was their bloody business whether I’m dating or not.” To make matters even worse, Hermione had been cultivating a romantic interest towards a certain Slytherin, but she couldn’t bloody well tell him that.

“For the brightest witch of her age, you sure can be thick Granger.” Theo declared, and Hermione shot him her best glare. “I’m just saying, you’re a witch, I’m a wizard, we’re both unattached. Take me as your date. It’ll get the Prophet off your back, and the best part is you’ll owe me.” Placing his feet on his desk and leaning back in his chair, he popped a grape into his mouth from his secret stash of food and lifted an eyebrow at her.

It did make some sense, she conceded. After all, the list of eligible wizards she was friends with had dwindled significantly since Neville and Dean had gotten girlfriends. Theo was certainly a handsome wizard, but Hermione worried that she would end up hurt. It was incredibly inconvenient that of all the wizards in Britain, she had to fancy this particular one.

“I don’t know Theo. I come with a lot of press. I don’t want you to have to deal with being hounded by photographers and reporters. Not to mention I’m certain that being seen with me will not endear you to some in…your circles.” Hermione’s voice had dropped off at that last point, knowing that it was a touchy subject for Theo. His father had been a death eater, but he had never joined. He remained close friends with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, but Hermione always got the impression that he was desperate to prove to the world that he was different from his father.

“Was that meant to be an argument against this arrangement? I mean have you seen how handsome my face is Granger, it deserves to be on the cover of the Prophet. Besides it’ll be a test of my acting ability. We’ll be so painfully dull as a couple that they never think to write about your love life again. What’s say you Granger?” Theo was looking at her with a smile, and Hermione gnawed on her bottom lip. It was a good idea, but she didn’t want to risk getting her hopes up. Glancing down at the paper, she watched as her picture hugged Charlie and then Oliver. It would at least keep the Prophet from bothering her friends.

“Alright.” She agreed, rolling up the newspaper and dropping it into the bin next to her desk. “I will owe you, but something small…and nothing questionably legal either. I still have to go through extra security when I leave the country thanks to your errand.” Holding up her fingers to place air quotes around errand, Hermione frowned at Theo. He held out his hand to her after a moment, and she reached out and shook it.

“Now what does one wear to a fake girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s engagement party?” Theo began to ramble away about what color robes they should wear, and Hermione laughed. This was definitely a mistake.

* * *

“How do I look Crooks?” Hermione asked the half-kneazle who had made himself at home on the jumper she had been wearing earlier that she’d thrown on the bed. She had been getting ready for Ron’s engagement party for nearly an hour now, and she was still had to do her hair and makeup. Deciding on an outfit was normally a stress-free task, as long as the colors didn’t clash, Hermione didn’t really put too much thought into her outfits. But this was different.

Her date with Theo may be a ruse to appease the prophet, but she was feeling more nervous than she had since her last first date. Looking in the mirror, she critiqued the pale pink dress. It was pretty, and flattering, but it didn’t feel quite right. Nothing felt right, and so Hermione changed out of her fourth dress option and stood in her knickers staring at her closet. It wasn’t that she didn’t have nice clothes, but what did one wear to an ex-boyfriend’s engagement party?

She didn’t want it to be too sexy, lest she be painted as a scarlet woman trying desperately to get her old man back. But she couldn’t be too covered either or they’d call her a spinster. It was like nothing was quite right. Finally, after emptying her wardrobe entirely, her eyes fell on an emerald green dress that she’d bought but never worn. It was off the shoulder, and form fitted to her curves with small cutouts at the waist. It was tight, but not scandalously so, and Hermione was pleasantly surprised how fit it made her look. She had always been too timid to wear it, but something about the way it shaped her made her bold.

“What about this one?” She asked again to her cat, who meowed and began to lick his paws. Taking that as a mewl of approval, Hermione sat at her vanity and began working on her hair. It had certainly calmed over the years, which her mother had always promised would happen when she would complain about it as a child. Now her hair fell in neat and tight ringlets rather than tangled and frizzy messes. She almost always wore her hair in braids now a days, so it might be a nice change to let her hair roam free.

Harry Potter, brilliant man and best friend that he was, had realized after the war settled that he was the heir to the Sleakeazy’s potion patent and fortune, and had promised Hermione free hair potion for life as a thank you for the innumerable times she kept him from certain death.

Rubbing the light pink cream in her hands, she combed it through her curls. Hermione had to be cautious to use a very small amount because it was rather potent, and she wanted her curls out and proud. After the third or fourth run through, her curls relaxed a bit, allowing them to be styled a little easier. With a hairpin from her grandmother, Hermione twirled a piece of hair from the right side of her head back, framing her face nicely. Her hair had always been one of her notable features, and she was slowly falling back in love with how her hair looked naturally.

Makeup and glamour charms had never been Hermione’s strong suit, right along with household charms. Although Molly Weasley had held a bootcamp of sorts with herself, Ron and Harry when they all moved out, she still couldn’t get those spells to work quite as well as the Weasley matriarch. It took Hermione several minutes to even figure out what kind of makeup look she was going for, and several more to hunt down her cosmetics bag (which she had a sneaking suspicion Crookshanks was involved in the theft of). Finding the bag under her bed, she glared at her cat before returning to her vanity.

On the long list of things Hermione preferred done the muggle way, her makeup was very near the top. Glamour charms were tricky and looked awful when not done perfectly. The one time she had tried glamour charms for a ministry function, she had ended up not going because she had accidentally turned her skin a rather unflattering orange shade. Ginny had laughed for ages before finally helping the girl undo her enchantment.

Hermione found herself wishing for the presence of her best girlfriend, and wondered how she was taking to motherhood. Harry insisted that Ginny was doing well, but Hermione suspected that she was being as dramatic as possible. Sighing, she pulled out an eyeshadow palette and got to work.

The final look was subdued, but matched her dress. The smokey eye blended nicely with the dark tone of her skin, and she was pleasantly surprised to discover that she had some green eyeshadow to place in the inner corner of her eyes. The black kohl eyeliner, which had often lead to Hermione admitting defeat and starting over, rolled on smoothly, creating a neat cat eye to make her brown eyes seem bigger. Finishing off the look with a pink lip gloss, she was pleased with how it all looked. The earrings she wore to all fancy gatherings were still in her jewelry dish on her dresser, and she pulled on the elegant tear-drop shaped gold hoops.

Once she was done with her styling, she began searching for a set of bracelets Harry had given her for her birthday the year before. The gold jewelry would go well with the color of the dress. She groaned as she remembered that they were still in the box, and she had to unpack the trunk at the edge of her bed to find them. Pulling them on, she flicked her wand and watched as the items she’d displaced replaced themselves. The trunk closed with a click, and she grabbed a pair of short black heels.

If she was to be asked, which no one would ask, she would say that she looked very pretty…maybe even a little sexy. It was the perfect balance to appease the prophet and maybe catch her date’s eye. Checking her beaded bag to make sure it had all her essentials, she strapped her wand onto her thigh and made to leave.

Refusing to floo in her nice dress, Hermione grabbed her bag and exited her apartment. The side street she often used to apparate was thankfully empty. After a brief pep-talk where she reminded herself that she loved Ron and Susan and they would be upset if she didn’t come, she felt the familiar pull at her navel, and she was gone.

The engagement party was being held at the Burrow, so Hermione and Theo were meeting at the Leaky Cauldron so she could take him. Of course, because Theo was both a Slytherin and a pureblood, he was already waiting for her when she arrived. He was already a handsome bastard in the ministry robes they were required to wear, and Hermione sucked in a tight breath as she looked at him in this dingy pub.

His dark brown hair was styled into a neat pile on top of his head. His beard, which was probably one of Hermione’s biggest weaknesses, was freshly trimmed and framed his face. She found herself thanking Merlin, Circe, and Morgana that the wizarding world had begun updating its fashions as she admired how the muggle influenced cut of his suit shaped him. If tall, dark and handsome were a person, it was manifesting in the form of Theodore Nott that night. Finding her throat going dry, Hermione cleared it and moved forward.

“Mr. Nott.” She greeted formally, earning a smirk from her fake date. He moved from where he had been leaning against the bar and made his way towards her. Stalling for a moment when he was approaching her, he seemed to have noticed her dress. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that some part of her had worn the dress in hopes that he would like it.

“As dates go, I think I might have won the evening.” He teased, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. The blush that crossed her cheeks felt hot, and she forced herself to look anywhere but at his eyes. Deciding that inspecting his scarf was a safe activity, she softened as she recognized it.

“Is that the scarf I knitted you?” Hermione wasn’t the most skilled at knitting, but she had been practicing, and that had led to every person in her life having scarves, hats, socks, mittens…she hadn’t accomplished a jumper yet, but Mrs. Weasley had promised to show her how to do it come Christmas.

“Good eye Ms. Granger. It’s warm and I think it went with my tie.” He was, of course, wearing Slytherin green, and Hermione smiled at the idea that he would enjoy her dress. They had matched after all. But then, his blue eyes caught hers, and she choked on her breath. Merlin of all the men in the world why did she have to fancy him.

“Well we best be going.” Hermione blurted, stiffening slightly before turning on her heels back out the door. Waiting for the tell-tale sound of footsteps behind her, she took a deep breath before holding out her arm to him. He grabbed around her waist instead, and she was knocked off-guard at the sudden contact.

“Don’t want to risk splinching.” He excused away, smirking at her like a cat with a mouse. She couldn’t deny the amusement in his eyes, but it was darker…almost hungry. Shaking away her thoughts that were already beginning to over-analyze his actions, she focused singularly on the crooked house they were going to. Once the image of the Burrow took over her mind, she felt a pressure and they disapparated.

* * *

The Burrow was very brightly decorated, with streamers of gold criss-crossing over the white tent that Arthur had erected. It was the same tent from Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and Hermione tensed for a moment before Theo’s hand stunned her back to reality. Dennis Creevey was off to the side slightly, snapping pictures of the wizards and witches in attendance.

“I’ve never seen this place…only heard stories. Its…well thank Merlin for magic.” Hermione wasn’t surprised that Theo didn’t find the Burrow particularly appealing, but she sent him a glare that she hoped conveyed that she would tolerate no rude comments about the Weasleys. They were her family, and if he didn’t want to respect that then he could leave.

It didn’t take long for Hermione’s presence to be noted, and once she was noticed, so was Theo. Dennis quickly turned his camera towards them, taking a picture of the couple pressed against each other before Hermione yelped and jumped apart from Theo. Ginny was the first person to approach her, wearing a flattering vintage inspired red dress that seemed to hide her remaining belly from her son’s birth. Of course, she still looked gorgeous, but Hermione knew Ginny couldn’t wait to get back flying fit.

“Hermione!” Her name was squealed as the redheaded witch nearly tackled her. The last time she had seen her friend had been when she visited them in St. Mungo’s after James’s birth nearly three weeks prior.

“Gin, its so good to see you. How have you been? How’s my godson? Harry keeps forgetting to take a photograph for me.” Hermione shifted slightly as she realized that Ginny was not listening to anything she was saying, favoring staring at Theo instead.

“Did you…who is this?” Ginny asked, ignoring all call for tact and instead crossing her arms in a defensive stance. Hermione was certain that Ginny knew exactly who he was, but wanted her to confirm it. The Weasleys did not have a good history with Slytherins, and she had expected at least some backlash from her arrangement with Theo.

“This is Theo Nott…he works with me in the DoM. We’re…urm…dating.” She made sure to highlight his status as her coworker, but Ginny shot a knowing look to the curly haired witch and forced a smile.

“Well nice to meet you Theo. I’m sure you and Hermione…work together very well.” Groaning slightly, Hermione leaned in to the witch and promised to talk to her later. She was too observant to not sniff out that Hermione fancied him, and knew there was no way Hermione had a boyfriend she didn’t tell her about.

“Likewise Mrs. Potter. I must extend my congratulations on the birth of your son. Hermione never stops bragging about him, so I feel as though I know him.” It was a good save, establishing their cover a bit more. It was not untrue, considering that Hermione was overjoyed with being James’s godmother.

“Thank you. He’s the best baby in the entire world, although that may be a slightly biased opinion. Give me one moment. OI HARRY!!!” Ginny’s scream broke through all the chatter in the crowd, and soon Harry Potter’s messy black hair could be seen bobbing along through the crowd. When he finally broke through towards the entrance, Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Harry was wearing a rucksack-like apparatus to hold the baby on his chest, and it was the most ridiculous and heart-warming thing Hermione had ever seen. Theo, who had been schooled by seven years as a Slytherin, did not make any notable shift in expression.

“Yes my dear wife whom I love?” Harry asked, clearly using his sweet voice for when he had wronged Ginny in some way. Hermione, knowing her best friend, assumed it was something thoughtless he had said. Grabbing her son from out of the carrier, Ginny handed him over to Hermione, who quickly took the sleeping baby. He had Harry’s dark hair, and Ginny’s freckles, making him the cutest baby she had ever seen.

“Hello Jamie.” She cooed, bringing him close to her chest. Harry scrunched his nose at the nickname but didn’t say anything.

“Hello James Potter.” Theo greeted, holding out his hand towards the baby’s. It was an oddly touching and intimate moment from the Slytherin, and Hermione found herself imagining him as a father.

“Nott.” Harry greeted. This interrupted Hermione’s daydream about a curly-haired, blue eyed baby, which she shook away with force. It would not do to imagine children with her date of convenience, no matter how fit he was or how cute a baby with their combined features would look.

“Oh yes…you obviously know Theo from the ministry. He’s my…urm…” Hermione hesitated for a moment. Lying to Harry was not one of her strong suits, and she wasn’t certain she could maintain a straight face while doing it.

“I’m her boyfriend. Still in the early phases of course, so labels are a bit strange. Isn’t that right my little lioness?” His voice was even and filled with affection, so Hermione had to fight back her icy glare at his term of endearment. He would suffer for that later.

“Absolutely sweetgums.” Hermione countered, and something like a challenge entered Theo’s eyes. If it was war he wanted, it was war he would get. “I know you said you’d love to spend all night with James here…” Turning to Ginny, Hermione held out the baby towards her. “Theo is such a softie for wee ones. But we should make our rounds…see the happy couple.” The hit landed, and Theo’s warm smile echoed back her sentiment…war it would be.

Once Harry and Ginny were satisfactorily entranced in their baby again, Hermione placed her hand in the crook of Theo’s elbow as they moved further into the party. “Sweetums?” He hissed as they moved around a group of people Hermione didn’t recognize.

“Little lioness?” She responded, raising her eyes to his. She loved when they challenged each other, but this was something more.

“Touche. Although the baby bit was a piece of genius. You would’ve made an excellent Slytherin.” His praise caught her, and her smirk drooped into a scowl. This just caused him to laugh even more, and they began to say hello to familiar faces. 

They stopped first to say congratulations to Ron and Susan. Ron, thankfully, was too distracted and happy to properly react to the fact that Hermione had brought a Slytherin with her. He seemed like he might say something, but then Susan smiled at him and everything else in the world seemed forgotten. She looked to be glowing as she held out her hand towards Hermione and Theo for a ring inspection. The stone was opal rather than diamond, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile that Ron had known the witch so well. There was a line to greet the newly engaged couple, so they said a quick goodbye, promising to talk more later. Theo had even managed to shake Ron’s hand without grimacing or making a rude remark.

Arthur and Molly were both cordial, although too busy with the party to really stop for any period of time. Bill and Fleur were polite, but clearly exhausted. Their third child was teething, and sleep was hard to come by. Percy and his girlfriend were the first ones to really put any effort into investigating Hermione’s claim of dating the Slytherin, but mostly due to the fact that the girl he was dating was a Slytherin from a few years above Theo. They were saved however, by the arrival of Kingsley Shacklebolt, who Percy instantly left to kiss the arse of.

“I never thought I’d say this, but that Weasley should’ve been in Slytherin. Bloody prat isn’t he?” Theo expressed his distaste for Percy, and Hermione had to bite her tongue not to agree with him. Although he had come round to the idea of fighting for the order by the end of the battle, he continued to prioritize his ministry job to his family.

“I’d say.” A voice from behind them agreed, and George Weasley appeared. His severed ear had healed now, and he was growing out his hair. It was nearly Bill’s length now, pulled back into a loose bun.

“George!” Hermione screamed, enveloping the wizard in a tight embrace. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas, and she had missed the devilish prankster.

“Woah there little witch. Hugging me like that, you might give your bloke here something to worry about.” Theo, for his part, managed to look appropriately weary of George while also maintaining his signature Slytherin smirk.

“Bold assumption Weasley that anyone could take my witch from me. Took me long enough to get her to even agree to a date.” Hermione gaped at him for a moment, amazed by his ability to create backstories on the fly. Improvisation was not a skill she had, and she was grateful for his help. He was very convincing; even she almost believed he fancied her (of course, that was just wishful thinking on her part). As if to seal his assertion, Theo placed a chaste kiss on Hermione’s cheek. Heat immediately rushed to her face, and Hermione had to fight the urge to brush her hand against where his lips had been.

“I…urm…I see…someone over there...I’ll…I’ll be back.” Hermione unwrapped her hand from his arm and desperately searched for Ginny in the crowd. It was easy enough, considering the food table had just been replenished. Her red hair was also a dead giveaway, and Hermione hastened over.

“I need you.” She rasped, catching the girl’s arm. Ginny, who had three plates balanced precariously in her hands, pursed her lips and looked back towards the piles of appetizers. “I’m calling in a code yellow.” In an instant, Ginny had handed Hermione one of her plates and pulled her away from the tent towards the house. Ginny’s old room hadn’t been touched really since she’d moved out, so the girls settled in there, locking the door. The code system they’d developed at Hogwarts had finally come in handy.

“Alright so code yellow means bloke trouble, spill.” The redhead tucked into the assorted sandwiches and hors d’ouevres that she had collected before Hermione had sounded the alarm. She sat with her legs crossed on her bed and looked expectantly at the curly-haired witch.

“I am not dating Theo.” Hermione began, earning an overly dramatic gasp from her friend. She was tempted to throw something at the witch, but the only thing near enough was an old copy of Witch Weekly. “But I want to be.” The admission came with a feeling of shame, and Hermione worried for a moment that Ginny would yell at her. She had only been on a handful of awful first dates since Ron, and it was not a jump to say that she had no idea what she was doing romantically.

“Yeah, I do have eyeballs ‘Mione. You clearly fancy the bloke and as gross as it is to admit a Slytherin is fit, he is handsome.” The incredulous look Hermione shot Ginny did nothing to deter her, and instead, she stuck out her tongue. Popping another small sandwich slice into her mouth, she chewed a bit before continuing. “So why are you telling people you’re dating then?”

“You know how the Prophet has been. Skeeter is making me the most eligible witch in all of England, and I didn’t want to show up to my ex-boyfriend’s engagement party alone. Theo volunteered to get the Prophet off my back, but the more he pretends to be with me, the more I find myself wanting it.” Burying her head in her hands, Hermione groaned. “I imagined what our children would look like when he introduced himself to James. Our children Gin! Merlin I’m going mad.”

Ginny stared at Hermione for a moment before starting to cackle. It began as a low chuckle and worked its way up until tears began to form as the redhead doubled over. Hermione glared at her, and grabbed a pastry from one of her many plates. She needed chocolate.

“I’m sorry ‘Mione I just…that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Are you sure its not the plot of one of those muggle shows on the telly?” Introducing the Weasley family to the concept of the television had come back to bite her.

“No it is not the plot of a soap opera, it is my life, and I would appreciate you telling me to stop being barmy like a good friend.” Falling dramatically into the pillows on the end of the bed, Hermione let out a scream of frustration. She was never this ridiculous. She was smart and independent, and she didn’t act like an idiot because she fancied some boy.

“No.” Ginny responded, and Hermione shot up as she regarded her friend with confusion.

“What do you mean no?” She asked, a bit angry.

“I mean no. Its about time you got back out there, and Nott seems like an alright bloke. He’s got a good job, merlin knows he’s fit as all hell, and if I’m right he’s into you too. Maybe try putting yourself out there. If I’m wrong – which I am very rarely – then the worst thing that has happened is you have an awkward morning or two at work.” Ginny had always been confidant, and had several boyfriends before Harry, so Hermione was inclined to listen to her advice. But a bigger part of her was terrified for him to say no.

“I don’t know Gin. Theo…we work well together and he’s smart and fit and so thoughtful…more thoughtful than you would expect from a Slytherin, but I can’t get a read on him. I have never gone into anything without thorough research and certainty it would turn out alright, and I don’t have that here.” It was true, even when it came to romantic relationships, she had never been the one to make the first move. Viktor had asked her out and she and Ron had…well that had just sort of happened. The few dates she had been on, she had been the one asked out.

“Maybe that’s your problem.” Ginny posed, and Hermione frowned. “You’re a Gryffindor mate. Try being brave. You fought to bring down one of the most evil wizards to ever live, and the thought that a boy might not fancy you back is enough to scare you?”

Ginny was right, of course Hermione knew Ginny was right, but it was still so frightening. “Must you be right all of the time? Its rather insufferable.” Placing her head on Ginny’s shoulder, she wrapped her friend in a tight hug; she really had missed her.

“It is my burden to bear. Now lets get you a wizard.” Somehow, during the ten minutes they had been away, Ginny had managed to eat all of the food she had gathered. Once she was sure Hermione wouldn’t run back into the house and hide, she made a beeline back to the buffet.

“Ahh there you are.” A silky voice came from behind, and strong arms wrapped themselves around her middle. About to turn and lecture Theo about personal space, his lips were suddenly next to her ear. “Skeeter is here.”

Her blood began to boil, and suddenly Theo’s arms were the only things preventing her from grabbing her wand and hexing the beetle into pieces. Of course she had found her way to the party. Hermione didn’t doubt that she would have noticed that she had run away from Theo minutes earlier.

Placing a sickly sweet smile on her face, she turned herself to face Theo, placing her own arms around his neck. “Yup. Found Ginny, had to work out the details for some babysitting tomorrow. Want to dance?” She was rather proud of herself for her acting ability, and Theo took her hand and led her to the small dance floor they had designated in an adjacent tent.

As Molly Weasley was in charge, the smooth sounds of Celestina Warbeck emanated from the speakers. The song that was currently playing was slow and meaningful, which Hermione was thankful for, as it gave her time to talk to Theo.

“So Theodore…” Hermione began, and when his blue eyes met hers, she nearly ran again. Stealing herself, she took a deep breath and continued. “Look Theo, I know that this is just you doing me a favor, but I…oh bugger I fancy you and I have done for months now.” Blurting out the words had seemed like the best plan at first, but the moment they went past her lips, she wished she could take them back.

The slytherin in front of her never stopped swaying as he stoicly considered her declaration. It was maddening, just watching him. After what felt like years of waiting, Theo began to react; although not at all how she had expected.

Bubbling laughter escaped Theo’s lips, and Hermione blushed deeply. Sure she had been worried about rejection, but his laughter was humiliating. Her feet stopped in place, and tears formed at the edges of her eyes, glistening slightly as she fought them. What had she done? She could never show her face at the department of mysteries again…and certainly not share a desk space with Theo.

But then as quickly as the laughter had come, a strong soft hand rested against her cheek, brushing away the beginnings of her tears. “Merlin witch. I’m the one who fancies you.”

“What?” Hermione was thoroughly confused, and if the warmth from his hand wasn’t tickling her skin, she might’ve thought she was dreaming.

“Yes. Why do you think I came up with this whole charade? I’ve been trying to flirt with you for months and you never seemed interested.” His words hit her, and she began to play back their friendship in her head. He did give her flowers on her birthday every year, but that was her birthday. And then there was the yarn and knitting needles set for Christmas the year before. He knew her favorite tea and had boxes ready to go in her desk…oh Circe was she thick.

“You’ve…but…I…” Smacking him lightly on the arm, she stomped her foot. “Theodore Nott, your Slytherin sneakiness is too subtle for me. Merlin you could’ve just asked me on a proper date. How was I supposed to know that you were flirting?” It was a decent question, and probably a testament to just how much of Slytherin he was and how much of a Gryffindor she was.

“Normally people can tell flirting with their eyes and ears. Should I have been a lion and shouted my feelings on the street? There is such a thing as class you know. Besides, I couldn’t exactly ask the brains of the Golden Trio out for a cuppa without knowing she was interested.” She was about to protest being referred to by that awful moniker when soft lips brushed against hers. Theo’s lips were warm, and seemed to melt against her as she pulled herself closer to him. It was different from the tentative and nervous kisses she’d shared with Viktor or the rushed and hungry kisses she’d shared with Ron. This was…

“Wow.” Hermione vocalized after they broke apart, immediately covering her mouth with her hand. It had been amazing, but his ego could not possibly get any bigger already.

“I’ve been waiting to do that ever since your swotty arse joined the department. Do you know how maddening it is to work with you when all I can imagine is snogging you senseless and popping off to the loo for a shag?” The lewdness of his words caught her off-guard, but a warm feeling in her stomach informed her that it was not unwelcome information. Maybe it was his admission, or maybe it was the high of their kiss, but in that moment, Hermione Granger felt especially brave.

“No. I can’t imagine.” She stood on her tip-toes, pulling his head down a bit so that she could whisper in her ear. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be imagination.” His eyes snapped to hers, and for once, the Slytherin’s emotions were bared in front of her. Those blue eyes that reminded her of the sea, were hungry.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her from the dance floor, looking around frantically. Whatever he was searching for, he seemed to spot it, and they raced off in the direction of the food table. “Weasley…ah yes and Ms. Bones. Congratulations again on the engagement…very excited for you both. Hermione and I are going to pop off now. Thank you for the lovely party.”

Before Hermione could add anything, Theo was pulling her towards the apparition point. Feeling the pressure of the process, the Burrow faded from her vision as instead a grand manor house came into view. The stone fireplace they landed in front of bore an engraved family crest, and Hermione realized there was only one place they could be.

“Nott Manor…” She spoke into the large room, more out of wonder than a question. Theo didn’t respond, simply sweeping her up into his arms. Hermione didn’t protest, finding that it was dreadfully romantic, and her feet were hurting her after so long wearing them. At the end of their journey, they arrived at an incredibly large bedroom that Hermione feared was larger than her flat. Plopping her down unceremoniously on the bed, Theo pulled his tie loose and cast it aside.

“Now Ms. Granger, I do believe we’ve got some time to make up for.” All defenses were dropped by the snake as he slithered towards her. His lips found hers, even in the dark, and Hermione moaned at the contact. She slid her hands into his hair, and grabbed on, pulling slightly. He seemed to enjoy that because he moaned into her mouth. Sliding his tongue along the curve of her lips, he began to trail kisses to her neck.

Finding the spot there, he began to bite and suck, marking her. “Territorial are we?” Hermione choked out, her voice breaking as he nipped at her throat.

“Yes.” He growled, pulling her towards him so now she was sitting in his lap and straddling him. Taking this opportunity, he slid the zipper down on her dress, watching as the green fabric peeled away from her body. She hadn’t worn a bra underneath it, and he groaned loudly when he discovered that fact.

“Slytherin green and no bra. Merlin you are a dream come true.” Attaching himself to her right nipple, she bucked her hips in response. Her knickers were nearly soaking at this point, and she became painfully aware of just how long it had been since she’d had sex. His shirt was suddenly an unwelcome obstruction between them, and she unbuttoned it quickly. Tossing it to the side, Hermione stared at him for a moment, taking in the sculpt of his chest. He wasn’t overly muscled like Viktor had been, but she could feel the hard muscle beneath her fingers as she rubbed up and down his chest.

Theo lifted her then, and she realized that he wanted to take the rest of her dress off, but he was hesitating. His eyes found hers, and she nodded at him. The moment he had her consent, he pulled the fabric from around her waist and hips, and she was sat on his bed in nothing but her white lace knickers.

Standing there for a second, his blue eyes darkened with desire as he licked his lips. She had always been a little self-conscious about her body, but Theo’s gaze made her feel like the most beautiful creature in the world. Ridding himself of his trousers, Hermione eyed him with hunger as she pushed herself forward to the edge of the bed and placed her hands where the elastic of his pants rested.

Kissing him slowly, she rubbed her thumbs around the edge of his pants before reaching them underneath. His erection twitched at the closeness of her fingers, and she could tell that if she hadn’t already been wet, she would’ve been soaking now.

“Is this…oh merlin I want to fuck you, but I don’t want to push you.” It was an unexpected moment of clarity in their heated exchange, and Hermione kissed him heatedly before pulling away.

“Fuck me then.” It was a clear instruction, and Theo did not need to be told twice. Removing his pants, he pulled at Hermione’s knickers, nearly tearing the lace with his force. Pressing his hand on her chest to push her gently into a position laying down, his left hand trailed down to her clit. Flicking the bundle of nerves lightly, Hermione let out a satisfying moan to let him know that she liked that. He focused solely on her reactions, pushing his own orgasm to the back of his mind. It was important to him that she get off.

“Theo…please…” The whine that escaped Hermione’s throat as he played with her clit drove him wild, and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. Pulling himself up on his elbows, he adjusted his position so that his hard cock was aligned with her opening. His eyes searched her face, waiting for one last act of consent before he entered her. She nodded at him lazily, her lips capturing his as they both moved.

She was tight around him as he pushed into her, and they both let out hisses of approval. Hermione bucked her hips against his after a moment, and eventually he began to move against her. The rhythm was slow, and languid, altogether different from the rushed and erratic foreplay they’d employed. This was a long time coming, and they both wanted to relish in the embrace.

“Fuck…” Theo drawled, pulling out completely before encasing himself again in the little witch. Her tits bounced slightly with the movement, and he captured one of her nipples with his teeth. The air seemed to tighten as they both bucked and sucked and kissed and groped, and soon Hermione felt a heat in her stomach building like a tsunami wave.

“Yes…fuck…right there…” Hermione goaded, growing more and more urgent as her orgasm approached. Theo picked up his pace, moving his hips to meet against hers.

“I’m gonna…” He began to warn before crashing his lips against hers. Cumming inside her, he felt her tighten around him. They stayed like that for a moment before he pulled out of her and rolled over to her side. Burying his hands in her loose curls, he kissed her slow. Both sweaty and satisfied, Hermione curled into his side.

“I can’t believe we’ve both been dancing around each other this long. I could’ve been shagging you on Jacob’s desk and he would be none the wiser.” Wiggling his eyebrows at her, she swatted at him lazily.

“Anthony is not that bad.” Hermione protested, and Theo just sleepily hummed against her shoulder.

“He’s a prat and he always smells like an apothocary’s. Not to mention he stares at your arse every time you walk by him. Can’t really blame the bloke, it is a spectacular arse. Might have been a little possessive of me to hex him with boils.” As if to show her, he moved his hands to her butt and squeezed lightly. Yelping at him, she blushed furiously.

“Theodore Nott! Are you telling me that you are the one who hexed Jacobs? I was the head of that inquiry committee you know. We thought there was a cursed obj…” Theo decided that he didn’t want to hear about work anymore, so he kissed her. That seemed to occupy her thoughts enough, and she sighed contently against him.

Thinking back on the past few months, she felt amusement build up in her throat. Bubbling laughter escaped her lips, and Theo regarded her with a curious expression. “What’s so funny witch? Unless you’ve finally seen the humor in hexing Jacobs.”

“No, that was horrid and you are lucky that I’m rather inclined to keep you out of trouble. No…it was something Ron said a few weeks ago.” Hermione could tell that Theo was intrigued by her words, but she waited for him to ask her what she meant. It wouldn’t do to give him everything; she’d make him work for it.

“And what did your ex-boyfriend say to you that made you laugh whilst naked in bed with me?” That just made Hermione laugh more before she calmed.

“He said that Mr. Right might be closer than I think. I didn’t think twice when he said it, but the desk over from mine is pretty bloody close.” Theo wrapped his arm tightly around the witch’s waist and pulled her tight against him.

“I’d like to stay close…if that’s alright with you.” For the first time, Hermione could sense some nervousness in his voice, and she smiled. This was a new side to the snake, and she wanted to see more.

“Yes. That’s alright with me.”


	3. The Youngest Black (Regulus/Hermione)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus has sat back quietly and allowed the woman of his dreams to fall for his brother, but what happens when Sirius makes an unplanned visit with some news Regulus could never expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day (belatedly) to rotehexe. This is for you for all you do to me! I hope you enjoy this little blurb of what could be.

Regulus Black had never been patient, especially when it came to being jealous of his brother. Sirius was nothing like what his mother expected; rude, defiant, lazy, downright Gryffindor. After his older brother had run away at 16, it came down to Regulus to be the perfect pureblooded heir that Walburga had always wanted.

It was simple enough. Listen. Obey. Don’t talk back. His life was just as it should have been all along. Unofficially, he was now the scion of the House of Black. Once his grandfather died and his mother confirmed Sirius’s disinheritance. Yet in all this rightness, everything felt wrong.

The rot of his decaying spirit filled his nose, the first beginnings of its sour stench starting when Regulus took the mark. His mother was so proud, a beaming smile replacing her usual callow grimace or disapproving sneer. For a few moments, he was her perfect son; then the weight of his allegiance began to strip him. It was like he was a screw turned once or twice too many, stripped of its grip.

He had been drowning in a sea of his own design when she’d come along. On the surface, she was everything that he loathed. Gryffindor, wild curls, muggleborn. She was both callous and ignorant of pureblooded customs, as if there was no reason for her to learn such antiquated ideas. Her dismissive nature of everything he’d been raised to believe were of paramount importance rubbed against the grain of his mind, and yet every time he closed his storming grey eyes, large amber-hued brown ones filled his vision.

Hermione Granger hadn’t been expected, and yet here she was all the same. She had saved him. Not only his life during the war, but also his soul. He hadn’t realized he was drowning until she came along like a breath of fresh air. Hermione showed him things he’d never seen before…things that his mother had insisted were beneath him. Falling in love with her was as natural as breathing, but there was one complication.

Sirius Black was a better man than he was a boy, still a fan of silly pranks and doing the exact opposite of what he was told, but the cruel child he’d been was gone. Whether he was pushed out of his intolerable adolescence by necessity or by desire was unknown to Regulus, but the shock was still clear on his face when he arrived at Grimmauld Place one day after the war had ended.

He’d received the invitation, to Hermione Granger and Sirius Black’s engagement party. No doubt at the insistence of the witch in question. She was one of his first true friends, not caring about his status or his house or his mother. She had only ever cared about him, in all his broken glory. Kissing her that day in October of 1979 had been an awakening for him, but he should have known…should have expected that nothing and no one could distract her from her purpose. By the time the war was over, and Voldemort was dead, Sirius had already gotten to her. He had shut himself away from her after the engagement, unable to take the pain of her rejection and his brother getting another thing that Regulus wanted. That’s how it always seemed to work with brothers.

On February 14, 1982, Sirius Black in that stupid leather jacket he wore constantly, arrived on the footsteps of Grimmauld Place, where Regulus now lived alone. His mother had been arrested for plotting to kidnap her own son and not a single soul in the wizarding world were not relieved at her removal from it.

They had talked, screamed, cried, laughed…Regulus hadn’t realized how much he truly missed his older brother until he’d truly seen him for the first time since Sirius was 16. 7 years can change a man.

Sirius had a reason to come seek his brother out, he always had a reason…always wanted something.

“Reg. She doesn’t love me. She pretends to, I can see it in her eyes, but she always looks at me like something is not quite right.” The older man was playing nervously with the frayed ends of his long curly hair, which looked like it could use a trim. Regulus stared intently at the tapestry of their family tree, watching as the faces moved.

“Of all your jokes, this is the cruelest.” Regulus’s voice was cold and short as he growled out a warning. Sirius would not play with his feelings today…not when her love was on the line. “She made her decision years ago. I’ve done my best to respect that; to keep my distance from the only woman I’ve ever loved. So don’t you dare come here and taunt me with what I know I can never have.”

His voice had broken at the end, only briefly as he attempted to regain control of himself. Breathing grew deeper, and his hands were pinching the bridge of his nose so hard that he thought he might draw blood. Sirius did something unexpected next.

“I’m not taunting you. This isn’t a prank Reg. When she smiles at me and talks of our future together, the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. I…she doesn’t love me anymore. Not the way that I want her to, but she’s so desperate to not hurt me that she is willing to marry a man she doesn’t love.” Sirius’s dark grey eyes looked up at Regulus in such a fierce seriousness that it nearly took the younger wizard’s breath away. The pain and disappointment were too real to be faked.

“But I’ve been…I purposely distanced myself. I haven’t even seen Hermione in nearly six months.” Regulus’s voice was slick with self-loathing as he hoped his brother’s words weren’t true.

“And she’s missed you every second of it.” The older wizard stood, crossing the small chasm of space between their respective armchairs before kneeling on the floor in front of his younger brother. “I’ve never once done right by you. I never considered how it would affect you, my leaving home. You endured so much because I wasn’t enough. Reg…go to her. Make the woman we both love happy.”

Regulus felt an overwhelming urge to hug his brother and leaned forward briefly to do so before stopping himself. They hadn’t hugged each other since they were young…since before Hogwarts. Sirius, however, seemed to have other plans as he wrapped his strong arms around Regulus’s chest. Relief filled their bodies as they spent their first moments as brothers in years.

“Go kid. I’ll be okay. She deserves to be happy…you both do. You’ll find her at the house.” Regulus stood shakily, an uncertain mix of a worried frown and an elated smile alternating on his face. 

The floo network was quick, but not quick enough for his rapidly beating heart. The moment that the green flames receded from his vision and left behind the cozy home in Godric’s Hollow that Hermione had claimed all those years ago, it was like his blood froze in place. “Are you going to stand in the floo all day?” Hermione’s voice called out from around the corner. Regulus’s chest ached at the beauty of her voice. The last time he’d heard it had been when she’d sent him a howler for missing her birthday.

When she rounded the corner, holding five large tomes that he was fairly certain she’d gotten at the bookshop in Knockturn Alley, the first thing he’d noticed was that her hair was short. It framed her face nicely and made her look a little more grown up. The scar on her cheek from the final battle of the war glinted in the light as she turned in surprise towards him. It was easy enough to mistake him for Sirius at first glance.

“Reg!!” Her voice squealed, dropping the heavy books with a loud thunk as she jumped into an embrace. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his chest. Although she didn’t cry, her voice began to waver as if tears were imminent. The closer she got, the more his chest constricted. She was somehow even more beautiful today than the last time he saw her. Hermione was always doing that somehow.

“Hermione.” He exhaled into her hair, noticing that her strawberry shampoo still filled his nose. The scent of her drove him mad and he pushed her away from him slightly, not wanting her to notice his…response to her proximity.

Before he could explain why he was there, she began to swat at him with her balled up fists, pounding against his chest. “How dare you!! I don’t see you in months and you just show up with no warning. I have half a mind to hex you blind you…you…inconsiderate toerag.”

Regulus couldn’t help but laugh at the tiny, enraged witch and caught her wrists easily enough. “I never wanted to leave you Hermione, but I couldn’t sit around and watch you marry my brother either.”

“Well…urm…that’s. You won’t.” Hermione paused, closing herself off with her hand firmly pulling her other elbow close to her. “You won’t have to. Sirius…he left me.”

Regulus did the first thing he could think of, which was to wrap his arms around her, pulling her tight against himself and resting his hand in her hair. “I’m so sorry Hermione.” He whispered in her ear, the small shiver that resulted from it not escaping her notice.

“Don’t be. He was right. I’m in love with someone else.” The tension in the room was thick as they pulled apart just enough to look at each other properly. Regulus searched her face desperately for some sign. An almost imperceptible nod from Hermione resulted in his hand under her chin, tilting it slightly as he guided his lips to hers. It was like no time had passed at all as the familiarity of her skin against his came flooding back. Gone was the uncertain boy who’d kissed her in 1979. This Regulus was a man, and his kiss burned her the way that love was meant to burn you. Like an icy hot flame, arousal flooded through her, and she nearly jumped him then and there. As if reading her mind, Regulus deepened the kiss, moving his hands down her back until he was cupping her arse. With a lift, Hermione enveloped his waist with her legs.

Not that Sirius was a bad snogger, in fact, he was quite skilled at the practice, but this was what Hermione had always wanted to feel. “Reg…” She moaned out as they moved clumsily around each other. Her hips ground against his as much as they could without her falling. “Bedroom.” She instructed. As a teenager, she’d always felt ashamed of her sexual appetite, the desires she’d hidden and ignored. Now as a grown woman, she wasn’t afraid to say that she wanted to be fucked by Regulus so hard that she couldn’t walk properly afterwards.

Apparently the animalistic look that the Black brothers had was not a result of Sirius’s animagus, but rather a shared hunger in the bloodline. Regulus’s tongue swiped against a sensitive part of her neck as he carried her towards the bedroom at the end of the hall. Just as soon as her back hit the mattress, Regulus was shucking off his robes, standing in front of her in nothing but a pair of dragon-hide trousers that were straining against the pressure of his throbbing erection, and a half-untucked button down shirt. Hermione, who had been wearing a pair of joggers and a loose fitting t-shirt, removed her clothes while prompting Regulus to do the same.

She removed her shirt and joggers quicker than he could unbutton his top, and he stared at her majesty for a moment. He’d always dreamed, wondered what she would look like naked, panting in front of him, and the sight was even better than a dream could ever be. “Enough staring and more getting naked.” Hermione’s breathy voice ordered.

Regulus didn’t need to be told twice, uncertain of whether he removed his trousers and pants properly or simply removed them by force. Regardless, within another moment, he was back at her lips. Long fingers trailed down her body from her neck until they arrived at her dripping cunt. “So wet already love.” He growled out, rubbing his thumb lightly against her clit. Hermione’s back arched with pleasure as he did so, and he could feel his dick jump against his stomach. His own needs pushed to the back of his mind as he slowly began peppering kisses from her lips to her breasts. Grabbing her nipple in his mouth, he bit and sucked lightly as he continued to rub against her with his fingers. The way she squirmed under him was more intoxicating than any firewhiskey or elf wine he’d ever had.

“Don’t stop Reg…” Hermione moaned out as a wave of pleasure crashed against her. Regulus would ensure that she orgasmed first, because he knew that he wouldn’t last two minutes inside of her…not with his pre-cum already drenching him.

His lips left her nipple, kissing her stomach next. His fingers moved away from her clit, which earned a whine from Hermione before a moan of pure ecstasy as his mouth and tongue replaced his hand. She tasted sweet, and the smell of her made his already painfully hard cock throb. Patience may be a virtue, but Regulus was fairly certain in that moment that the anticipation might kill him. The moans of her pleasure filled his ears, and he could hear her breath begin to cut short as her orgasm approached. Her fingers found his hair and grabbed hold, leading him slightly to the right. This, in turn, earned him a scream. “Regulus…” She screamed out, and Regulus nearly came right then. The way that his name sounded coming out of her lips as she orgasmed was the most delicious noise he’d ever heard. As her chest rose and fell with the exertion of catching her breath, he kissed his way back up to her lips, stopping briefly at each breast to bite and suck just a bit.

“Can I fuck you?” Regulus asked, his lips next to Hermione’s ears. He couldn’t do it, not unless she expressly gave him permission.

“Oh please fuck me.” Hermione demanded, crashing her lips back against his, their teeth meeting in slightly painful kiss. They recovered quickly though as Regulus lined his cock up with her cunt. Looking at her for one last check of consent, her nod allowed him to push into her. The groan that left him as he entered her wasn’t conscious as every inch of him began to buzz with arousal. She was tight around him, and the pulses and aftershock of her own orgasm pushed against him in a delicious symphony of pressure.

Moving his hips against hers, he was glad he decided to get her off first, as he could feel his own orgasm coming after only a few minutes of thrusting. “Are you on the potion? Should I pull out?” He was amazed that his brain still seemed to be functioning logically in this moment, but he waited for her response, his throbbing cock perched at her entrance.

“I’m on the potion. We’ll cast an extra contraceptive charm later to be sure just…oh god fuck me.” It was a clear enough instruction, and one that Regulus was happy to oblige. Pleasure exploded through him again as he re-entered her, and his hips snapped against hers. She also ground her hips up towards his, and only a few moments later, he came apart. Puffs of air escaped him as he came inside his witch. Lazily, he lowered himself to her chest, wrapping one arm around her back and one arm in her hair before flipping them both so they were laying sideways, facing each other.

“I’ve loved you so long. I’ve been dreaming of doing that to you.” Hermione giggled as he kissed her neck sloppily.

“Did it live up to your expectations?” She breathed out, pushing her leg between his and cuddling close to his chest.

“You are the most brilliant witch to have ever lived. Maybe this day isn’t such rubbish after all.” Regulus smiled at her brightly, the corners of his mouth curved up like a wolf who had just captured its prey.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Reg.” Hermione whispered, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Hermione.” He responded, allowing himself to follow her into a contented sleep. Dreams really do come true.


	4. Provocative Patrols (Dramione)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco are Head Boy and Head Girl, but what happens when they're left alone to patrol empty corridors at night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a quick drabble based on a fanart that Elithien has been working on that they were kind enough to share on the Dramione discord. As I'm trying to get more practice writing smut, here is just a quick study in sex to accompany that very very hot drawing.

Hermione Granger had had about enough of her boyfriend’s shirking of their official duties. “Draco if you don’t stop looking at my arse and start helping me with these rounds I’m going to start patrolling alone.” She stood in place, her petite frame nearly laughably small compared to his height. Perfectly prim and proper robes draped around her, and her hair was down and growing in size with all the time they spent in the dungeons.

“But it is such a beautiful arse.” Draco teased, drawing himself forward so the light from the torch on the stone wall illuminated his slick jawline. He was undeniably handsome, and Hermione could feel herself melting into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Her long, thin fingers ran up his back and laced into his platinum blond locks.

Draco shivered the way he always did when her nails brushed against his scalp, and Hermione closed the distance between them, placing her lips sweetly on his. They had been dating for nearly four months now, yet every kiss felt like their first. The familiar fire of desire began to burn between her thighs, and she bit out a slight moan as he moved his lips from hers to her neck.

“Stop distracting me…we…we need to finish our rounds. Its your fault we have to do late rounds anyway.” Hermione clipped out as his warm, soft lips grazed her neck. Teeth made contact with her skin and she leaned her head back to give him more access. All her complaints were forgotten as the pleasure of his touch took over.

“We’re ahead of schedule. Come on love, be a bit naughty with me.” The way his crooked smile glanced at her in the flickering light set Hermione on fire, and she bit her lip as if it might hold in the growing wave of arousal in her stomach.

“We shouldn’t. We’re head boy and head girl for Merlin’s sake! Imagine the scandal if we were caught…” She was cut off again by Draco’s hands relocating to her bum, one cheek in each hand.

“Where’s that Gryffindor bravery?” She would’ve ignored his request normally, just pushed herself away and ignored the dampness of her panties…but today…today there was no one schedule to patrol except them. Today, maybe she did want to be a bit naughty.

Grabbing his Slytherin tie and pulling him into a secluded alcove to their right, Hermione crashed back against him and all but jumped into his arms. After he regained both his senses and his balance, his hungry grey eyes looked at her like she was his prey and he was about to devour her.

When his lithe hands went to undo the buttons of her vest, she slapped them away. “I’m being brave, not stupid. If someone were to come along I’m not about to be naked in the corridor.” Draco’s full-bodied laugh rippled up from his stomach, and Hermione found herself joining him before they lazily met each other’s lips again. After a few moments of increasingly sloppy and demanding snogging, Hermione’s hands fumbled in the firelight for the zip of his trousers. 

His already hardened cock was straining against the tight material of his trousers, and Hermione ran her hand along the outline of it, earning a low moaning growl from her boyfriend. “Fuck…” He hissed, his hips jerking up towards her hand.

“Hold on…” Hermione panted, watching as he sadly but quickly put her down. Pulling her wand out of her inner pocket, she cast a quick muffliato and a notice-me-not charm. “Just in case.” She explained, quickly dropping to her knees. Draco’s eyes widened as she pulled down the zipper of his trousers and pulled his erection free from his pants. It was something that made her feel so powerful, knowing that she could control him so easily.

Her fingers wrapped gently around his dick, stroking him lightly as he groaned and leaned into her touch. “Fuck ‘Mione.” He mumbled out, to which she pulled away abruptly. Mourning the loss of her fingers, he looked at her with a sharp intake of breath.

“Never call me ‘Mione.” Hermione’s voice was both stern and biting as she looked up at him and he frantically nodded his head, desperate for the heat of her hand. Satisfied by the current power dynamic between them, Hermione placed her head near his cock, swiping her tongue across it as if experimenting with the sensation. 

Like she expected, his instinctive response was to place his hands in her curly hair and tug lightly. This sent heat through her head all the way down to her thrumming cunt as she prepared to take him in. Opening her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the tip of his dick before moving her head forward. She couldn’t take all of him in her mouth, but she did as much as she could before she could feel her gag reflex begin to kick in. When she found that sweet spot, she began to move back to the tip before slowly repeating the process a few more times. 

“Hermione I’m going to cum soon if you don’t stop.” Draco whined, his voice breathy. When Hermione looked up at his face, his cheeks were deliciously red and she could see the redness beginning to spread to his chest.

“Do you want me to finish?” Hermione asked, a sickly fake sweetness coating her voice. There was something about being drunk on the power of having a man’s most precious part near her teeth that made her not just brave, but fearless.

“No. I want to fuck you until I need to carry you back to the rooms.” The way he said it, tilting his head slightly to the side, made Hermione’s cunt throb. She nodded, moving her own hands to where his were intertwined in her hair and locking her fingers in with his. His hands guided hers, turning her slowly so she was facing the wall and away from him.

“Dripping for me already sweets?” Draco’s low voice crooned, as he parted their hands and placed his long fingers against the fabric of her panties. His hand pushed aside the thin fabric and pressed gently against her clit before moving his thumb in small, controlled circles. Squirming against his touch, he wrapped his other hand around to both squeeze her breast and pin her against himself. His already fully erect dick twitched against the fabric of her skirt, and she could feel the wave of her desire building.

“Oh please fuck me already Draco…” Hermione ordered, spreading her legs aside to make herself more available. The soft chuckle of Draco releasing air against her throat caused her to moan, and she threw back her head to once again allow his lips to find purchase there.

“Ready love?” Draco asked, and Hermione could barely even focus enough to nod her head, her thoughts overwhelmed by both his hand on her clit and breast and his lips on her neck. A moment later, she could feel him push into her and a beautiful pressure fill her stomach.

His movements were cautious at the beginning, ensuring her comfort before picking up speed. There was something electric in the air as the excitement of their forbidden corridor tryst heightened their arousal. Draco’s hips smacked against Hermione’s bum, which produced a wonderful little slapping noise. Hermione was biting her lip to keep herself quiet before remembering that she had cast a muffling charm.

As Draco adjusted their position slightly to allow for deeper access, Hermione’s moans grew to near a scream as he quickened his pace. “Fuck you feel so good.” He moaned breathily against her neck, filling her with each thrust of his hips. Hermione tried to turn her head to kiss him but only found a mouthful of her own hair, so she just simply nodded.

“Oh fuck me Draco…I’m so close.” Hermione began to lean forward, allowing him as much room to maneuver as possible. Draco’s speed continued and the two began climbing together towards their climax. His long fingers moved once again to her clit and began stroking her with renewed vigor as she began to breathe faster and faster until the telltale squeak of her orgasm erupted from behind her lips. Draco came not even three seconds after Hermione did, lingering inside her for a moment before pulling out and resting his forehead against the wall.

Hermione’s lips found his, once she was able to find the energy to peel herself from the wall. The kiss was lazy and sloppy and warm, and Hermione was more certain than ever that she loved him.

“Well you were right about one thing.” She choked out in between stunted breaths.

“What was that?” Draco responded, one eye open and looking at her as he redid the button and zip of his trousers.

“You’re going to have to carry me back to the dorms.” Hermione giggled in the glow of her orgasm and watched as Draco rolled his eyes and mumbled something about that being quite the Slytherin trick. Nevertheless, Draco picked Hermione up bridal style and carried her back to the head dorms. Maybe they would volunteer for the late patrol more often.


	5. How to Say Goodbye (Dramione)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione asks to be told a story...her story. Saying goodbye has never been easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. This is an incredibly sad story so if you're looking for fluff this isn't the place. This past week I lost my uncle, not to the Virus thank God, but I wasn't able to say goodbye. So this has been a project to try and cope with my own sadness of not being able to say goodbye by giving someone else the chance to. You never know when you'll lose someone you love so it is important to spend every moment with them with love in your heart. Its not my best work, but it was important for me to write. Its rushed in some parts and not well plotted but I don't have it in me to edit it so here's the raw version.

Hermione never knew what to do in this part…in the empty space between dying and death. Fading. That’s the word the doctors had used to describe her husband’s health. 53 years of marriage. 3 children. 7 grandchildren. They’d shared a wonderful life together, but she found herself completely unwilling to let it end.

“How long does he have?” Hermione’s voice cracked as she asked, unconsciously adjusting the very smart two piece suit she’d worn. Her curly hair, now more grey than brown was pulled back in her favorite clip…one he’d bought her for their first anniversary.

“I’m going to be quite frank with you because I know you’ll appreciate it. His core is weak. I’d say maybe a few more hours.” He looked as if he was going to say something more than thought better.

“You’ve been through worse.” She informed her husband, resting her hand over his. Liverspots decorated the near-translucent skin, a sign of the old age she’d grown to. Around her nails, the skin was bittern and jagged, evidence of a nervous habit she’d thought she’d long since gotten rid of. He smiled at her, the same smile that always made her heart melt, and she knew.

“Can you give us a minute?” The doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably, clearly aware of what was about to happen. But Hermione didn’t want to say goodbye…never one to give up that Granger.

“I won’t let you just sit there and resign to death. You are going to fight this.” Brown eyes glistened with the effort of holding back tears. His features were still so handsome, even with the wrinkles and grey hair. 

“Still a bossy little know it all Granger.” The teasing tone of his voice made her smile sadly, and when his hand reached weakly up to her cheek, she nuzzled into it, holding it firmly in place.

“Its been Malfoy for over 50 years now. When will you finally stop using my old name?” Her chuckle caught in her throat as she choked on the escaping air. Clearing her throat with a cough, she motioned for him to scoot over. Hospital beds, especially those in St. Mungo’s Ward for Elderly Wizards and Witches, were not meant to be comfortably shared. Once settled curled up against his side, ignoring the ache in her back from the change in position, she kissed him sweetly.

“I can’t do this without you Draco.” Hermione insisted, letting her right hand wander through his now wispy and balding white hair. Draco caught her hand, bringing it back down to their chests. Pulling it to his lips, he watched as her eyes locked onto his.

“You have to. I’ve lived a wonderful life. Better than I have ever deserved. You’ve given me a wonderful life. Scorpius, Rose, Calypso…I never knew what I needed until you came punching your way into my life. I took that ugly mark, I hurt so many people but still you looked at me with kindness.” Tears began to stream down her cheeks then, as her face contorted in pain. A trickled down near her nose before Draco shuffled so his other hand could brush them away.

“Falling in love with you was never going to be easy was it? Tell me…” Hermione worked out, her body shaking slightly from withholding her sobs. “Tell me a story Draco.”

“Which story love?” He asked, intertwining their hands.

“Ours.”

“Remember that first date? I really thought I’d mucked up the whole thing. It had taken weeks of begging to get you to agree to a redo.” His laughter filled the air around her as if they were the only two beings in existence. Closing her eyes, she could remember every detail of the day…even the tragic dress she’d borrowed from Ginny Potter.

* * *

_“You’re late.” Were the first words Hermione heard as she wandered into the brand-new tea shop in Diagon Alley. It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon and based on the nasty greyish-blue of those clouds, it was about to rain at any moment._

_“I’m precisely on time.” Hermione hrumphed back. Her eyes widened as she noticed the man who’d been waiting for her. Of course Draco Malfoy would come to afternoon tea in his finest robes. Her cheeks burned as she compared his level of dress to her own. Ginny had insisted on primping and prepping Hermione like a damn Barbie doll. Her hair was pulled back by seemingly 1,000 butterfly clips (which Hermione severely regretted every introducing to the ginger witch), and her makeup was surprisingly understated for the normally over-the-top woman. The dress she’d finally compromised on was a light violet thing that nipped out at the waist. Short sleeves and a sweetheart neckline made it more feminine than what she’d normally wear, and it was much too short for her liking, but she’d felt pretty._

_“Urm…well I’ve…I’ve got a table. You look…acceptable.” She huffed in annoyance at the dismissal. He turned away from her before she could confirm, but she was almost certain he had blushed. Tucking one of her strands of hair back inside its clipping, she followed him towards a circular table hidden somewhat in the corner of the establishment. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief that this teashop in no way resembled Madam Puddifoots…not a single piece of lace in sight._

_Awkward silence filled the air between them as they sat, perusing the menus. There weren’t too many choices, mostly herbal teas and earl greys. One tea with jasmine and honey caught her eye, so she placed her menu down and attempted to replace the silence with…basically anything else._

_“Harry says you’re to take over for Slughorn come the fall. That’s exciting.” Under the table, Hermione’s hands met, her fingers nervously picking at the cuticles. It was a habit she’d picked up during the war and had never quite been able to shake._

_“What…oh. I suppose it is. Finding work as a…” It didn’t need to be said. Hermione had watched the Malfoy family’s fall from grace personally. After the war, the ministry had taken everything…the manor, the money, the business. Lucius went to Azkaban. Narcissa, well she died shortly after his sentencing._

_Hermione looked up then, looking into his eyes. There was always something hidden behind what he showed…like he was wearing a mask that no one could see through. “Yes, well you’re hardly that same scared child from the war.”_

_“Aren’t I?” He near whispered, and Hermione was about to pry when their server came up. She nearly flew out of her seat when she saw who it was._

_“Seamus?” She squealed as she rushed to give the man a hug. “When did you get back to England? Not even an owl after all this time?”_

_Seamus Finnigan looked nearly the same from when she’d last seen him, albeit heavily bearded and a bit more muscular. “Bloody hell Hermione I haven’t seen you in ages. Sorry for falling off the map there for a bit. My mum was sick for a while and I had to go back home to Ireland to take care of her. I’ve only gotten back a few weeks ago. Merlin its good to see you. Is that…?”_

_His eyes had shifted to Hermione’s companion, widening as they did. “Malfoy you look like shite.” Seamus teased, clapping the man on the back. Draco seemed to flinch from the contact and grimaced at the shorter man._

_“Thank you so much for your keen observation Finnigan. I see that age has done nothing to assist the emptiness in your head. Now if you’ll do your job and take our order you can be on your merry way. After all you appear to need this job.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Malfoy. Seamus puffed his chest out a bit but deflated a moment later, dejection in his eyes. She knew Seamus had always been insecure about his finances, and watching him back down made her furious._

_“No need.” Hermione cut in, folding her menu and handing it to her friend._

_“You’ve decided what you want?” Draco asked, surprise in his tone._

_“No. I won’t be having anything. I’m leaving.” She grabbed her bag from the back of the chair and made her way to the exit. Scrambling sounds behind her made her aware that he must have been chasing after her, but she refused to stop until he’d caught her arm._

_“Granger…” Draco was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. Hermione had known that from their years at Hogwarts, but she’d thought he’d grown…obviously not._

_“I should’ve known that this was a mistake. Give him a chance I said. There’s no way he’s just as much of a twat now as he was. War changes people. Well you clearly haven’t changed. You are still the cruel, selfish, loathsome little cockroach you’ve always been.” He reeled back as if she’d slapped him, but she hadn’t…she didn’t need to. Draco Malfoy would have to grovel at her feet before she’d ever give him a second chance.  
_

* * *

“You were so jealous of Seamus. Merlin I wanted to hex you on the spot. But I must admit, I’d never seen you beg for anything in my life so you gave me quite the surprise when you sent me flowers every day.” Hermione laughed, shifting so she flipped on her other side, with Draco’s arms wrapped around her waist.

“Gave Finnigan a proper surprise when he started getting them.” She could feel him laughing against her shoulder, the movement making her feel warm.

“I still remember his face when he told me to go on…how did he phrase it? Oh yes, _Go on a bloody date with the tosser so he stops filling my café with roses._” Hermione sighed loudly, her eyes focusing on the generic moving portrait of a meadow that decorated the sparse room. “You really owe him for all this you know.”

“Yes, but I didn’t marry him did I?” Draco reminded her, and her eyes wandered from the relaxing lavender meadow towards where the opal ring sat on her finger. Most woman got diamonds for engagements, but Hermione had never been most women. Draco was dirt poor by the time they got engaged, having only the clothes he had kept and a meager savings from his teaching position. She’d insisted she didn’t even need a ring. They’d fought about it for hours, and in the end, Draco had stomped off from her muggle London flat in the pouring rain.

She’d tried to chase after him through the dark and wet, but the crack of apparition rung clearly through the thunder. And then about an hour later her doorbell rang.

* * *

_“Draco?” Hermione’s voice echoed off the brick threshold of her front door. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you come through the floo? Why are you still wet?” _

_A million questions fought for dominance in the back of her mind, but all those were thrown aside when he pulled her out into the rain with him. The small park across from her flat was glistening with the rain and she realized that there was a bubble of grass where the rain wasn’t coming down._

_Draco pulled her into the bubble protecting them both from the rain, his blonde hair dripping against his face. “You told me that you loved romance. Ever since you were a little girl you always wanted to be proposed to in a field of lavender because you’d read it in one of your rubbish romance novels.” Pulling his wand out of the hidden pocket in his sleeve, he conjured a lavender plants in a circle around them. Hermione’s eyes widened and for once she couldn’t think of anything to say._

_“I am not a romantic man. I am selfish and jealous and so so in love with you. Everyday I’ve been with you has been the single greatest day of my life. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you and even though I know I’m bound to muck it all up along the way, will you marry me?” Draco had dropped to one knee, his shoes sloshing as he did so, and Hermione pulled her hands up to her face, not able to contain her joy._

_“Yes…Merlin yes…” She nodded, rushing forward into his arms. The ring was small, made of silver and opal, but to her it was the most perfect thing in the world. “I will marry you.”_

* * *

“Scorpius will be very cross with you for missing his election. Its not everyday someone succeeds their mum as Minister for Magic.” Draco sighed against her shoulder and she turned again so she could see his face.

“I know he’ll be cross. Got his ability to hold grudges from his mum didn’t he. Rosey will set him right though. How is it fair that the one who looks exactly like me ended up so much like you? At least Caly was in Slytherin.” Draco was still smiling, but there was less light behind his eyes than before, and Hermione could tell that he didn’t have much more in him.

“They’re the best thing I’ve ever done.” Hermione expressed, blinking her eyes slowly as she felt the weight of her sadness.

“I still remember when Scorpius was born. He was so small. I’d never imagined that I could have a hand in making something so wonderful.”

* * *

_“_ _I’m going to set you on bloody fire you prick!” Hermione screamed, sweat glistening against her forehead with the force of the contraction._

_“I love you too darling.” Draco cooed back, hiding the wince that came when she squeezed his hand. She’d already been in labor for fifteen hours, but she insisted on doing all of this the muggle way. Even with the bags under her eyes, her hair pulled into a bun that was barely containing any of it, and wearing a horrific green hospital gown, she was the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen._

_“Okay Mrs. Malfoy. One more big push. We can see the head.” The head healer instructed, returning to the position she’d been in. Hermione turned to Draco, her breath heavy and gasping._

_“I can’t do it. I can’t do it.” She chanted over and over again. Draco knelt down by her side and brushed her sweaty hair away that had stuck to her forehead._

_“You are the strongest witch I’ve ever known. You can do this. I love you so much.” Before he could finish, another scream ripped from Hermione’s throat followed shortly by panicked crying._

_“It’s a boy.” The healer proclaimed, wrapping the baby in a blanket and pressing him against Hermione’s chest. Underneath all the blood and goo, he was the most beautiful baby he’d ever seen._

_“We have a son. I have a son.” Draco choked out, his eyes brimming with tears of pride._

_“We have a son.” Hermione agreed, overwhelmed by love as she looked at the boy. He was just so small, so perfect._

_“Welcome to the world. I suppose we have to name him now.” Draco diverted, wiping the tears as they trickled down his face._

_“Scorpius. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”  
_

* * *

“It has been a pretty good life hasn’t it.” Hermione spoke fondly, her eyes dried.

“It will continue to be good after I am gone. You have to let me go Hermione.” He pulled her as tight to himself as he could manage with the strength he had left. “You have to look after everyone when I’m gone. Promise me.” Hermione started sobbing again, her body shaking against his embrace as she did. His breathing started to grow slow and ragged. “Promise me Mrs. Malfoy.”

“I promise.” Hermione pushed against him slightly and kissed him, his lips were dry but that didn’t stop her. “You are the love of my life Draco. I love you.”

“I love you too.” They sat like that, in each other’s arms for the minutes they had left. Around 10 minutes later, Draco Malfoy was dead, but if there was one truth in the world, it was that Hermione and Draco loved each other more than anything in the world.

Her last words before she left him that day were speckled with tears and devastation, “Until we meet again.”


End file.
